Untold torture

It’s bitterly cold when I’ve opened my eyes. I see bright red drops of blood; staining the pureness of the color of the snow. Where am I, you ask? What happened and what will happen next? Well I’m not entirely sure how to answer that. Let’s start with this.

Fifteen year old Elizabeth Swain, here, reposting her story of death.

Have you ever woken up in a dimly-lit basement, tied up and feeling completely chilled to the bone? No? Then I’ll tell you this: when this happens to you, hope isn’t even worth dreaming of anymore.

I don’t know how I got here. All I remember is that I was coming home late from a friend’s house. I expected my family to wait for me. I guess they thought I was already asleep. And seeing that all lights were closed and the door was locked. I panicked. I started knocking hard and loud at the door. I really didn’t want anyone to see me sleeping out in the street.

I yelled for the family to open the door. No one came. Then I heard this distant howl of a dog like in horror movies and cold sweat beaded down on my neck. I prayed someone would come and open the door already. And my wish was granted.

The door opened by itself, and my house seems more promising than a lone dog, wondering around looking for food, so I entered. I feel my shoes touch something wet on the floor. The sound of it makes my stomach turn and I really didn’t want to see what it was. I take a few more steps inside and click the switch. Guess what? The power was out.

I take deep calming breaths. But the air froze in my chest when my eyes had set on the floor. Blood. It’s everywhere. Scattered in pools and I think I see human organs cut open as well. I feel bile rising in me. I try to steady myself by holding to the side of the wall, but I grab it bag as soon as I placed it there.

I couldn’t know for sure but I’ve got a good hunch what made my hand wet. I try to walk along the mess, blocking out the thought of who owned these organs. But then my eyes trailed to the couch. A man I was sitting there. Waiting…for me.

He was sharpening a knife and he seemed to have noticed me and stopped in the middle of his work. I freeze. Eyes closed and whole my whole body is rigid. I would have done anything to blend into the background but sadly I’m just human.

Next thing I know I’m in this hell seen, tied up and pretty much helpless. The basement seemed like paradise compared to the blood house I use to call home. Because of the bitter cold I could hardly even feel the deep gnashes on my body. But they still sting.

All I know is after the brief moment of being alone a man came in; his face hidden in the shadows and tortured me. Knifes cutting slowly through my skin, whips hitting my back, and other forms of physical torture. With every scream that escapes my mouth he laughs. It went on like this for hours till I finally collapse.

And here I am. Where we started. Did I answer your question yet? Well know you know what happened, though unclear why. I suppose I should tell you what happens next but I’ll tell you this first, before I move on any further.  Don’t go looking for a happy ending here. This is a story of a sadist man torturing for a reason hell knows what. No hero to save the day, no lives spared. If you have blood-lust right now then go ahead and read if you feel like you’d faint then stop. I’ve warned you.

The brightness of the color red ruins the white coat of snow. I follow the trail with my eyes as I lay there like I’m dead already. The tracks start by the black gate and end…on me.

My blood; staining the snow. I can’t even react to it. My body feels too weak and too numb to move or to register pain. But I had enough life in me let out a shriek when I see my hands.

Oh sorry that was wrong—when I saw where my hands have been. My arms end in stumps and so does my legs. Suddenly I feel alive again but sadly the means I was able to feel the agonizingly blinding pain that were present from the ends of my limbs.

I realize I’m in a graveyard. Oh how poetic. Dying among the dead. I see light going closer but the pain doesn’t die yet. I close my eyes and just focus on the last thing I’ll be able to feel. And just as I know I’m going to die, I hear the laughter again. I open my eyes a little to see the man. This time I saw him clearly. The shock never had the time to reach my brain. Right there I died on the snow. The last this on my brain?

It was my father. But why…?